


ain't no rest for the wicked

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Substance Abuse, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds Kevin in the most unlikely of outfits. Well, he’s always had a thing for cheerleaders, anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ain't no rest for the wicked

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I know, I know. OTP FAILBOAT. Also, I should be writing my minibang (i am, i am), but then I got distracted by Osric in a cheerleading outfit. It’s a thing. [SEE](https://vine.co/v/OBwlvL3WVwE)?

It’s late by anyone’s standards, quarter-past five in the morning when Sam walks out of his room in search of Kevin. The kid hardly sleeps these days, half-due to PTSD, Sam’s sure (he’s been there. he’s still there most days), half because of the uppers that Dean’s given him. Kevin pops them like candy. Sam wonders how long they’ll sustain the prophet’s small body before he collapses.

The light’s still on in Kevin’s room when he gets to the door. No surprises there. He hears soft words and wonders who Kevin’s talking to, until he realizes that Kevin’s mumbling to himself. Just like Dean does when he’s frustrated. They’re both more alike than one would guess at first sight. But when push comes to shove—protecting one’s family—they’re both the type of guys who can be counted on.

Sam’s out of his own bottle of green pills, the main reason he’s at Kevin’s doorstep, but to be honest, he wouldn’t mind a little geek-out time as well. The thing is, Dean’s smart. Like really smart. Like Sam highly suspects he was _The Crying of Lot 49_ in between the pages of his skin mags sort of smart. Some of it’s gotten lost over the years, the result of brain cell loss from years of drinking and being brought back from the dead. Even when the angels do it, Sam’s long suspected they don’t come back without losing a few connections.

Anyways, that’s digressing. The point is, even when Dean was in his teens, or his prime, he was never a geek. There were girls and literature; sure. Monsters and family; always. Staple things in Dean’s existence. There was, however, definitely not an anime character outside of the porn he watched on Sam’s computer (still does, dammit, even though Sam bought him one of his own).

Sam jimmies the door open, courtesy of a fake credit card and slips into Kevin’s room. His entrance is followed by a high pitch shriek and a blur of mostly tanned skin with a little bit of bright white that quickly dives behind the couch.

“Uh, Kevin, is that you?” Sam asks. He’s pretty sure that it is, but the sudden movement has his gun in his hand before he can even think about it. At least Sam’s still got his reflexes.

A head peeks out from behind the couch. Large brown eyes meet his, and Sam lowers his gun. His eyebrows furrow as he laughs. “Whatcha doin’ there, Kev? Didn’t know we were playing hide and seek tonight.”

“Knocking. It’s a thing. People do it in case _other_ people don’t want them to come in,” Kevin says pointedly.

Sam shrugs. “Me and Dean don’t knock. Our house, our rules. Now come on out, I need a few green ones if I want to get any more work done tonight.”

Reluctantly, Kevin stands up. And oh. _Oh_. Sam knew that Dean had a cross-dressing kink, or at least one for panties. But Kevin? Kevin’s wearing a skimpy cheerleading costume, and it’s the hottest thing he’s seen in a _long_ time. Possibly ever. High school girls should bow down to the image Kevin makes.

“I didn’t know....” Sam’s thought trails off as the short skirt bounces, showing off Kevin’s perky ass in a pair of spankies as he darts across the room, leaning forward to press two green pills into Sam’s hand. Sam pops them into his mouth and swallows. Business is over, now it’s definitely time for pleasure. Geeking out is so not going to cut it tonight.

“Well, now you do, so please leave me alone to curl up on my couch and die.”

Kevin pushes on Sam’s chest. Sam doesn’t move. But with Kevin actively touching him, palms pressing into his nipples—Sam gets actively harder. And the next time that Kevin tries to push him, he lowers his eyes when Kevin comes in contact with his erection.

“Oh,” is all Kevin can seem to say, and when Sam smiles guiltily, Kevin propels himself fast enough on top of him that Sam’s forced to catch him with only one hand. Kevin is tiny; it works.

“So…uh…you wanna?” Sam asks. There’s no reason to be nervous. Kevin’s thighs are clamped around him and Sam isn’t going _anywhere_ , but to be honest, it feels a little bit like cradle robbing. Plus, he hasn’t gotten any action that wasn’t a result of Dean’s guilt in years, and he almost feels guilty about this just by reflex. But no. That’s Dean thing. Not Sam’s. Sam’s his own person dammit, and if he wants this, if Kevin wants this, it’s all good. Copasetic even.

“No, Sam. I’m climbing you like the fucking tree that you are because I _don’t_ want to.”

Sam’s expression dims for a moment before he makes his way completely through Kevin’s sentence (it’s five o’clock, ok? he’s allowed a little bit of decreased processing).

Kevin leans in to kiss him, and it’s soft. Slightly wet too, when Kevin parts his mouth and Sam wants, needs, to take control. He’s spent so much time in the back seat of his own life, first with Dad, then with Dean—always wanting to be up in his space 24/7—and more recently with Lucifer riding inside his skin, that Sam needs this when it comes to sex. Needs to know that this is all him. Pure Sam, whatever that means these days. What he wants. Not what other people try to force on him.

Luckily, Kevin seems to be onboard with the idea of Sam taking control and eagerly allows him to walk them over to the wall. He presses Kevin against the reinforced steel that refuses to give before he starts to meet the tight thrusts that Kevin’s been rubbing against him.

They kiss for a while. Slowly and lazy, Kevin exploring the junctions between his teeth, the bumps of his tongue with just as much enthusiasm as he puts into everything else that he does. Eventually, Sam’s need for air outweighs his desire to swap spit, and he pulls away from the warm heat of Kevin’s mouth to press kisses against his jawline. There’s just the hint of morning stubble there; Sam’s sure that by this early hour he’s got more than a hint on his face as well. Kevin leans his head back then, allowing Sam access to licking down his throat, until he finally takes his hand off where it’s been roughly kneading Kevin’s ass and slips it up underneath the white top that could pass for a bra.

“Fuck,” Kevin groans out, his back arching to meet Sam’s hand. Kevin’s firm, hard all over, and definitely starting to leak through his spankies.

“Not tonight, ‘s too late, and I don’t have the energy,” Sam says. Rather reluctantly he removes his hand from where his thumb was rubbing circles over Kevin’s nipple and undoes his belt buckle. He pushes his jeans down to his knees before pulling down Kevin’s skirt.

Once both their erections are free, Sam returns his mouth to Kevin’s at the same time that Kevin’s hand comes down to stroke them. Kevin’s hand is small. Of course it is. Kevin is small. But Sam hasn’t felt that in a long time. It makes his own dick feel even larger than usual; a welcome feeling in Sam’s psyche.

“You like my dick?” he asks, needing verbal conformation.

“’S big,” Kevin huffs out, almost unable to talk over the slip slide of wet flesh and the slap of Sam’s balls against Kevin’s every time he pushes forward.

“Yeah it is. Think you can take it later?”

Kevin nods. “Definitely. I’ve got mad skills you haven’t even seen.”

That makes Sam chuckle because it’s been a long time, a really fucking long time since he had sex with someone he liked. Someone he fundamentally got along with. Someone who was small, and funny, and liked to wear pretty cheerleading outfits.

Sam doesn’t bother responding. Instead, he wraps his own hand around Kevin’s, and by default, around their dicks and jerks them off hard and fast until Sam points both of their dicks towards Kevin at the last minute, and they both come hard, making a mess out of Kevin’s bare stomach.

After they’ve both calmed down Sam uses his own shirt to wipe the come off of Kevin’s stomach (with Dean’s voice in his head, it’s your mess bitch, you clean it up), before carrying Kevin off to the couch that often serves as his bed. He hands him a water bottle.

“Here. Hydrate. Then sleep. You’re going to need it if you want my dick tomorrow.”

“You still going to want me if ‘m not dressed like a cheerleader?” Kevin mumbles into his pillow.

Sam runs his hands through Kevin’s short hair. Down his waist and over his still naked thighs, before pulling a blanket over him.

“Are you kidding me? Anything besides mullet-rock and I’m sold.”

The smile that Kevin shoots him is brilliant. It’s a look of pure trust, and it’s hard for Sam to imagine ever putting that much faith into someone else. It’s a look of someone who hasn’t been let down time and time again. He hopes he can live up to it. He hopes his family genetics don’t get in the way of Kevin’s whole-hearted faith.

“But between me and you…anytime you want to break out that cheerleading outfit, I’m all yours.”

He doesn’t get a response, and when he looks down, Kevin is passed out. Good. The kid needs a fucking a break. He gets up off the couch and dumps an extra few pills into his hand. Swallows them like the others. Just a few for the road. Ain’t no rest for the wicked, and Sam’s got work to do.  



End file.
